


Not Leaving You

by Charlotte_Lancer



Series: Not Leaving You [1]
Category: Bandom, Megadeth, Metallica
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chicago, Coming Out, Early 80s, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, New York City, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Recovery, Road Trips, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2018-12-01 01:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 7,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlotte_Lancer/pseuds/Charlotte_Lancer
Summary: AU in which James left Metallica with Dave.





	1. Bad News, Good News

When Dave walked into the kitchen, he saw his three band mates sitting behind the table, with strange expressions on their faces. Lars, sitting on Dave’s right, was staring at him with a hard expression that looked slightly out of place on the usually energetic Dane. Opposite him sat Cliff, who looked like he was trying to look disinterested yet still keep an eye on the others. Dave’s lover, James, sat in the middle, with an odd mix of sadness, resignation, and fear upon his face, somehow combined with a small smirk that suggested he knew he was about to have the upper hand in something, though Dave couldn't fathom what. James didn't look up for long, instead turning his attention back towards the plate sitting in front of him.

 

Attempting to ignore the stares from Lars as he went about the kitchen, Dave settled on cereal for breakfast, as he doubted his ability to focus on the stove with Lars staring so hard he could practically feel it. As soon as he set his bowl on the table, Cliff spoke,

  
“We need to have a band discussion. We've been talking and-”

  
“You're out of the band,” Lars said, cutting off whatever attempt to lessen the blow that Cliff had been making.

Dave stared mutely as both continued speaking, alternating between the two of themselves to deliver a list of reasons that he was being kicked out. He snapped back to reality as James finally spoke, handing him a bus pass and saying simply,

  
“I'll help you pack.” James didn't even pause before standing and walking past him to their shared room, leaving Dave still standing dumbstruck in the kitchen. He hoped that Lars and Cliff hadn't seen James quickly grab his hand as he walked by. He didn't move until Lars pointed to the ticket and said,

  
“Bus leaves in an hour.”

 

In their room, James sat on Dave’s bed, shoving clothes and everything else Dave owned into a large suitcase.

  
“You knew,” Dave stated, “you knew and you didn't do anything to stop them. What's going to happen to us, James?” His voice was close to a yell by the end of his question, and he sincerely hoped Lars and Cliff couldn't hear him from the kitchen. While you were being kicked out of a band seemed like a bad time to come out to said band. James looked up at him, the smirk still pulling at the corner of his mouth.

  
“Look under my bed,” he said.

  
“What?” Dave asked, not moving from his spot against the door.

  
“Just do it, we don't have all day here,” He said, soundly slightly aggravated at repeating himself.  
Dave walked over to James’ bed, and bend to look under it. A second suitcase resided under it, with a second bus pass laying across the front pocket.

 

Confused, Dave turned around to find James now standing right in front of him.

  
“What-”

  
“I'm coming with you,” said James, before grabbing Dave for a kiss.

\----------------------------

Back in the kitchen, Lars and Cliff continued eating, with Lars looking confused.

  
“Did James just try to hold Dave’s hand?”

  
“I didn't really notice, to be honest.”

  
Slightly placated, Lars turned back to his plate and ate several more spoonfuls of his cereal before stopping again to say,

  
“They've both been acting kind of odd lately, you don't think they're planning something, like some kind of revenge, do you?”

  
“I really doubt they've been planning revenge, Lars. And there's no way Dave knew ahead of time, he's not that good of an actor.”

  
“I just think-” Lars was cut off by Dave, who seemed to have forgotten how thin the walls here were.

  
“-t’s going to happen to us, James?”

  
Lars and Cliff looked at each other, Lars’ eyes seemingly trying to escape his head.

  
“Are they…” Lars trailed off, unsure of what to say.

  
“It wouldn't surprise me,” said Cliff, picking up his mug of coffee for another sip.

  
Lars narrowed his eyes, “did you know they were together? Why didn't you say something before I just kicked James’ boyfriend out of the band. Shit, why didn't James try to stop this?” Lars’ eyebrows seemed to be planning a strategic retreat into his hairline and he panicked aloud about what had just happened.

  
Finally, several moments later, Lars calmed himself down several seconds before Dave and James returned to the kitchen, each wheeling a suitcase behind him. Lars didn't remember Dave having so much stuff.

  
“Well, I'm going to help Dave walk his stuff to the bus stop, see you guys later.” James voice was unnaturally high as he spoke, and he practically ran out of the room as he finished. Both Lars and Cliff looked up at Dave for some sort of explanation, which prompted Dave to follow James’ lead in exiting as quickly as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have a plot fully planned out for this, though I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update with my new full-time job. I'll try to have a new chapter up by Friday, but I make no promises.


	2. Drive Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd update friday... I didn't say which friday.
> 
> Thanks to Jocy for commenting and motivating me to actually continue this thing.
> 
> Anyway, here it is;

"So what now?" Asked Dave, standing on the sidewalk outside the house they had been staying in. 

"We go home, and then we figure things out from there, replied James. "Also, we really do have to catch that bus before it leaves."

They began to head towards the bus station, neither speaking do the rest of the walk. 

.........................................................

Inside the house, Lars was quickly shoving all of his things into a bag, anxious to catch James and Dave before their bus left for California. 

"We have to catch them! How're we supposed to record an album without a singer? I know we had Kirk lined up to replace Dave, but as far as I know he can't sing. We're never going to find a replacement for James on such short notice." Lars looked in confusion between the two near-identical shirts he had just picked up, as if realizing for the first time that it was not just one shirt. "We record in less than a week! We- how did you pack so fast?"

"I never really unpacked," said Cliff, "Also, I didn't bring everything I own, like you three seem to have done." Cliff held up a small suitcase as if to illustrate his point.

Lars swore as he shoved the last of his things into the bag, and slung it onto his shoulders. "Let's go," he said. 

......................................................

"We need two tickets for the California bus," said Lars, practically yelling to the young woman behind the counter. 

"I'm sorry, sir, but the 12'O'clock to California has already departed. All seats were filled early. I can-"

Lars didn't stick around to hear what she could do, instead rushing to the window to see the bus leaving the station. Two heads of long blond and red hair were visible through the back window. 

Lars swore, and walked back to the counter where Cliff was still standing. 

"Their isn't another bus until next week," said Cliff, "but there is one thing we overlooked earlier."

"What?" Lars asked,

Cliff smirked, " If James took the bus with Dave, guess what we still have?"

Lars eyes widened as he realized what Cliff meant. "James' truck!" he said, "C'mon, let's go!"

..............................................

"James?"

"Yeah, Dave?"

"Why didn't we just drive back?"

"...fuck."

........................................

James truck was still parked behind the house, exactly where it had been placed three days prior. After almost an hour of searching, Lars found the keys hidden under the seat, which explained, Lars thought, how James had forgotten the truck in the first place. 

Currently, Cliff was putting their bags and some food into the truck while Lars called Kirk to explain what was going on. 

"Slight change of plans, we can't practice tonight," said Lars, "me and Cliff have to go chase a bus across the country."

There was a long pause before Kirk spoke,

"Is this some weird way to tell me you don't need me anymore, because you could just say it, Lars."

"No, really, James took off with Dave when we kicked him out, they're both on a bus back to California right now."

"...Right, let me know how that goes for you." Kirk sounded unconvinced, not that Lars could really blame him in this situation. 

"Fine. You have my California number, right? I'll call you if anything happens."

Kirk hummed his agreement, and they both ended the call. 

 ......................................

Cliff was leaning against the truck, waiting for Lars to finish calling Kirk. As soon as he saw him exit the back door, Cliff climbed into the driver's seat. He had already taped a copy of the bus route to the dashboard, and made sure that the maps they had used to get to New York were still in the console. 

"Ready?" Asked Cliff, as Lars climbed into the passenger's seat. 

"Yeah. So you think with how long the bus stays at each station, we'll be able to catch them at the third stop?"

"Right. The bus route isn't the fastest way, either. We'll definitely be able to catch up to them by the Nebraska stop."

Lars nodded, and stuck a tape into the radio as Cliff pulled the truck onto the street. 


	3. Bus Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Jocy, and also to Metallicafanforever, for encouraging me to continue this story. I really appreciate the feedback and reading your comments makes my day every time.
> 
> This chapter is pretty short, but I should have a longer one up in the next few days.

James and Dave were sat at the back of the bus, in the two seats next to the bathroom. The lack of seats next to them, combined with the fact that the family in front of them spoke no English, afforded them a small amount of privacy to talk candidly. 

 

"James? What are we going to do when we get back to California? Are we… Are we going to start a new band?” Dave seemed hesitant to break the relative silence that they had been maintaining so far, but he was worried that James hadn’t thought through his plan much further than the bus itself. That James had forgotten his truck only strengthened Dave’s suspicions that James had no idea what he was doing.

 

“We’ll figure that out when we get there. But for now… Look, Dave…” James looked down, searching the floor for the right words to say. “Dave, I love you, so keep this in mind when I say this, but you need help before we do anything else. Lars and Cliff weren’t exactly off-base with that one.”

 

Dave stared at James with wide-eyed shock, and for a moment James feared he’d said exactly the wrong thing. But then Dave’s face softened, and he said “You love me?”

 

“Of course I-” James was cut off by Dave launching forward and grabbing him into a hug so tight he could barely breath. “I love you, too, James,” was whispered into his ear, and James pulled Dave even tighter to him.

 

Several moments later, they separated from each other, though they kept their hands linked between them. Staring straight ahead, Dave said, “So you really think I need help?”

 

Grasping Dave’s hand slightly tighter, James said, “I do. Dave, you haven’t seen yourself when you’re high or drunk. You’re not yourself. You scare me, and I’m scared you’re going to do something that… that can’t unhappen.” James turned to Dave, who looked towards the window to avoid James’ gaze.

 

“I… I understand. I’ve never wanted to scare you, James.”

 

“I know, Dave, I know.”

 

“I’ll get help.”

 

“Thank you, Dave.” James reached out to turn Dave’s head towards him, and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. When they broke apart, both had tears in their eyes that they elected to pretend were from the not-as-bright-as-they-would-like-to-claim sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three whole chapters and I haven't completely abandoned it, this is a new record... I think this is going to be my first multi-chapter story to actually get finished.


	4. World's Largest Something-Or-Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Jocy for commenting and also for reminding me to update this thing.

Several hours after their departure, Lars and Cliff had pulled into a gas station somewhere on the border of Pennsylvania and Ohio, neither of them entirely sure whether they had passed the border yet or not. While Cliff filled the truck’s tank with gasoline, Lars wandered around the side of the station, looking for a pay phone. Finding one, he dropped a quarter into the slot and dialed Kirk’s phone number.

…“Hello?” answered a slightly confused voice on the other side.

“Kirk, it’s me, Lars. We’re making better time than we thought, Cliff thinks we’ll be able to catch James and Dave when the bus stops in Chicago, so we should be back in a couple days at most.”

“That’s great, because someone from your recording studio called me asking where you were, and he wasn’t too happy with ‘somewhere in the eastern United States.’”

“Fuck, we forgot to tell anyone else we were leaving.” Lars put his hand over his face and closed his eyes. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad did they seem.”

Kirk laughed sharply, and said, “Twelve.”

Lars swore. “Do they know why we left?”

“No, they didn’t ask anything else, they just hung up.”

“Well, this’ll be fun to explain to management.” Out of the corner of his eye, Lars noticed Ciff signalling him that the truck was ready. “Hey, we have to get back to driving now, but I’ll call you when we get to the bus station, aright?”

“Alright.”

“Great.” Lars stuck the phone back onto its’ cradle, and hurried back to the truck.

…………………………...

As Lars had noticed on the drive to New York, one state looked a lot like the next when you were driving across so many of them. Cliff had fallen asleep somewhere in Ohio, leaving Lars to the relative silence of the night. The three tapes in the car had each been played several times, and had been turned off around the time Lars heard Paranoid for the fourth time that day. Lars found himself extremely bored, and desperately wishing he had some way to call Kirk without having to find an open gas station.

Lars was pretty sure they were in Indiana at this point, though the open highway gave no clues as to what town or city they might be passing by now. Vaguely, he recalled seeing a side for some sort of “world’s largest” something-or-other, though he could not remember what it had been. Glancing over at the highlighted path on the map, Lars saw that there was still at least 200 miles to go, and considered how much easier it would be to chase someone halfway across the country in, say, Denmark, or England, or any other normal sized country. Sighing, Lars focused back on the highway, resigned to his fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm assuming James and Dave are asleep, since it's the middle of the night and they don't have to drive.
> 
> Sorry this took so long, I kind of, er, forgot. If there's not an update by Monday feel free to bug me until you get one.


	5. 16 Inch Softball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapter in one day? I don't know what's happening either.

James was jolted into consciousness by the sharp honk of the bus’s horn and the bus driver loudly announcing that they had arrived at the Chicago. Nudging the still-sleeping Dave awake, James looked at his watch. Not even 10am yet, and they already had a three hour layover waiting for them.

James stood to remove his and Dave’s bags from the overhead compartment, ignoring the dirty looks that the elderly woman in the row ahead of them was giving him. As she left she spouted a long string of words directed at him that he was pretty sure was in French. He was also pretty sure that it was less than favorable commentary, and decided to avoid her in the bus station. Now fully alert, Dave took his bag from James, and the two exited the bus.

………………..

The Chicago bus terminal was a large, run-down cement building that seemed to have been last cleaned sometime in the late 60s, judging by the thick dust and dirt permeating every inch of the terminal. At least three people had already tried to sell James drugs in the barely-an-hour that they’d been there, and when Dave had gone into the men’s restroom there had been a man paying a prostitute for her services. Both of them were keeping a hand on their suitcases, uncomfortably aware of the large man eyeing them from a bench in the corner. James was trying to avoid looking in his direction, and was instead watching the other travellers while Dave read a faded pamphlet about the history of Chicago.

“Did you know that 16-inch softball was invented in Chicago?” Dave asked, not sounding the least bit like he cared.

“What’s 16-inch softball?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” said Dave, flipping over the page.

At the furthest end of the lobby, James could see a short brunette woman arguing with a staff member. The woman was facing away from him, but the employee looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. The woman stood up on her toes, trying to intimidate the man, but the effect was diminished by the fact the she was at least a foot shorter than him, and was holding a small stuffed dog in her left hand. They were too far away to hear what they were arguing about, but the woman had a nice ass, and James couldn’t find anything better to do in the disgusting bus station, especially since he refused to take Dave anywhere near the bar that for some reason was housed in the dilapidated bus terminal.

A man who was presumably the woman’s boyfriend came up behind her from somewhere James didn’t see, and joined in the conversation with his girlfriend and the employee who James now noticed was a security guard. He had a map, and held in out at waist level for the guard to point to somewhere along the edge closest to James. Satisfied, he and the woman turned, and-

“What the fuck!” exclaimed James, grabbing Dave and pointing across the room to where Lars and Cliff were now rapidly approaching them.

“James, what-” the pamphlet fell from Dave’s hands as he saw what, or who, James was pointing at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bus terminal in the story is supposed to be the original Chicago Greyhound terminal, though I've downplayed exactly how disgusting of a place it actually was from the early 50s to the mid 80s since I didn't want to have to up the rating.


	6. Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three. In one day.

“How the hell did you two get here- actually, no, why are you here?” James was speaking quite loudly, and many of the people whom James had been watching earlier were now watching them.

“We came to bring you back,” Lars stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Dave considered that, honestly, that had been a bit of a useless question. Lars and Cliff wouldn’t have driven what must have been about 14 hours just to chat.

“I’m not going with you, Lars, I’m not leaving Dave.” And didn’t that just make Dave all warm inside.

“I- no one is asking you to, James, there were four seats in your truck, last time I checked.” Dave was remaining tactfully silent, as was Cliff. No one pointed out that there was actually five.

James looked confused, which prompted Lars to continue speaking, at a more reasonable volume this time. “Look, I’m not saying I understand what’s going on here, exactly, but we kind of figured that when you left with Dave that we weren’t going to convince you to come back alone just because we asked you to. We’re asking both of you to come back, and we can figure everything else out from there.”

James moved his hand into Dave’s, and looked over to Dave, seemingly for approval. Dave nodded. James took a deep breath, and, voice shaking, barely audibly, he said “We’re together. I love him.”

“And I love James,” Dave added, his voice almost forceful in the confidence with which he spoke.

Lars and Cliff looked at each other, seeming far less surprised than Dave had expected. Cliff raised an eyebrow at Lars, who turned back to James and Dave.

“Honestly, we pretty much figured out you were together already. We could hear you talking in Dave’s room before you left for the bus station. In retrospect, we probably should have figured it out way before then, but…” Lars didn’t seem to have a specific excuse in mind, but a quick glance to his left and the loosening death grip on his hand told Dave that Lars’ words seemed to have assuaged most of James’ fears over Lars and Cliff’s possible reactions.

“So, do we have an entire band again?” Cliff asked. Dave and James turned to each other, and after a moment both nodded to each other. James spoke.

“We have a band.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of a sudden I've figured out exactly where I want this storyline to go, and now I can't stop writing, so expect an update tomorrow. At the latest.


	7. Payphone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four in a day. 2000 words in one day. At this rate, expect an update by Sunday at the latest.

James and Dave had been more than happy to leave the dirty bus terminal as quickly as possible after they’d agreed to come back to the band, and as such they’d packed their suitcases into the truck and gotten onto the road in less than 15 minutes. James was driving, with Dave in the passenger seat next to him. In the back, Lars and Cliff were enjoying not having to drive, Lars still holding the stuffed dog that James now recognised as a cartoonish greyhound from the gift shop in the bus terminal.

“How long were you guys stuck waiting around in Chicago for us that you had time to go shopping?” James asked.

“I think we got there around 6am, I don’t even know.”

“You spent four hours in  _ that _ hellhole?” exclaimed James. Cliff nodded, and said,

“Hey, James, how come when I was getting the terminal map from the ticket lady, I could see you watching Lars, yet when we walked over you seemed surprised to see us?”

James reddened, and said, “I didn’t really recognise you guys from behind, especially since I wasn’t exactly expecting to see you there.”

“Wait, then why were you watching us?” asked Lars. James did his best impersonation of a tomato, and said nothing.

“He was totally checking out your ass,” chimed Dave, smirking slightly. Lars squawked, and James somehow turned even redder.

“I didn’t know it was you! I thought you were a chick! I, uh, I-” Dave laughed softly as James gave up on sentences.

“You thought I was a girl! That’s, like, even worse!” Lars looked both amused and insulted. Then he accidentally caught James eyes in the mirror, and they both dissolved into laughter. Dave couldn’t help but to laugh too, and nor could Cliff, so soon all four of them were laughing so hard they could barely breathe.

………………………..

A few hours later, the four decided to stop for food, as no one had had anything but chips and candy for the better part of two days. James took the next exit off of the highway, which thankfully led them to a fairly large town that seemed to have at least ten different restaurants within view of the off ramp alone.

“Uh, looks like there’s chinese, IHOP, Applebee’s, pizza, Burg-” James’ list was cut off by a chorus of ‘pizza’s, and he pulled the truck into the parking lot of the Uno’s.

Getting out of the car, Lars spotted a payphone on the sidewalk, and said, “I’ll meet you guys inside, I’m just going to call Kirk real quick, let him know we’re on our way back.” Lars hurried off before anyone had a chance to say anything, practically sprinting to the phone.

James looked at Dave and asked, “Did that seem weird to you? Because it seemed weird to me.” Dave just shrugged, looking slightly confused.

“Between you and me,” said Cliff, keeping his voice down slightly, “I think Lars might have a crush on Kirk. That’s why he bought that creepy toy dog, he thought Kirk would like it.”

“Awww, that’s almost, like, sweet of him,” said James, his voice a weird mixture of amusement and confusion. Despite the unlikeliness of the sentence, James didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic, at least not to Dave.

A moment later, Lars walked back over, a wide grin on his face. “Well, let’s go eat,” he said, cheer apparent in his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel kinda bad for making Lars and Cliff spent four hours in that bus station, but realistically even that was probably two short. If they left NYC around 1pm, and it's an at-most 13 hour drive to Chicago, they really should have spent about six hours there. Hopefully they stopped for gas a few more times than explicitly mentioned.


	8. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long! I started this chapter two weeks ago, but then life, like, happened. I'm going to try to stick to a Friday upload schedule from now on, though.
> 
> Thank you to Metallicafanforever for reviewing the last chapter, it means a lot to me. :)
> 
>  
> 
> I swear I'm going to finish this story.

Inside the restaurant, they found themselves seated in a corner booth, being waited on by a disturbingly cheerful waitress. Privately, James thought she was just excited to have customers, as there were no other diners anywhere in sight, a fact which he himself was grateful for, as it allowed him to practically sit on top of Dave without fear of people’s reactions. She read off the day special- a deep dish pizza with sausage and tomatoes- and pulled out a small notepad.

“What can I get you boys to drink? Sodas, waters, beers?” She turned to Dave first, and James could see both Lars and Cliff tense for several seconds before Dave decided on a Coke. The waitress didn't seem to have noticed, as her too-bright smile never faltered. James echoed the request for soda, as did Lars and Cliff.

As she finished writing down the order, she spun around towards the kitchen door, turning so fast her apron flew up around her. When she was out of earshot, Lars spoke up.

“So the studio is pissed, apparently. They called Kirk looking for us yesterday and weren't too happy to hear we were gone.”

“Well, we’ll be back in time to record, so…” James didn't really care if the studio was mad, they'd calm down easily enough once the album was finished, and it wasn't like he’d had many other options at the time. “Poor Kirk, though, stuck dealing with those assholes.”

The others murmured their agreement, just in time for the waitress to return with their drinks. She whipped out her notepad again, her face still displaying the same overly-bright smile.

“You boys ready to order some food?” Her voice was chirpy to the point of sounding fake, and, combined with her sickeningly sweet perfume that made his stomach turn, James wished they had chosen somewhere else to eat. He just nodded along with whatever it was Lars was ordering, trying to breathe as little as possible.

As soon as the waitress left, James leaned his head against Dave’s shoulder, suddenly feeling the effects of the extremely tiring last few days in full force. He yawned as Dave adjusted to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

“Want me to drive for a while? Let you get some sleep?” James wasn’t sure how Dave was still so awake, but he was too grateful to argue. He nodded sleepily against Dave before noticing Lars and Cliff’s amused expressions. He tried to level a glare at them, but he was pretty sure it came across a lot less intimidating than he’d intended, at least judging by Lars’ subsequent laughter. James felt his eyes start to close as Dave ran his fingers through the ends of his hair, and by the third stroke James was asleep.


	9. In The UNO'S

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploading this a few hours early because I won't be around tomorrow. Yay for overtime pay, anyway.

Lars watched in amusement as James fell asleep leaning against Dave. Despite his many concerns about Dave and his troublesome behavior, Lars really did want the two of them to be happy. 

 

Looking at them across the table, it was clear that they certainly were happy together. Dave was smiling down at James, playing lightly with the sleeping man’s hair, and James, even asleep, seemed to be smiling slightly at the sensation, looking more peaceful than Lars had ever seen him before. He hoped, especially for James sake, that Dave would see sense and fix his issues. Lars figured that Dave passing on the offered beer was already a good sign. Maybe love really could change a person. 

 

Before Lars could ponder this train of thought for long, Dave cleared his throat. After taking one last glance to assure himself that James was sound asleep, Dave quietly spoke.

“Me and James were talking earlier, and once we get back to California, I’m checking into rehab.” He looked straight at Lars and Cliff, waiting for their reactions. Taking in the stunned look on Lars’ face, and the slightly curious one on Cliff’s, Dave continued, “I can't keep putting him through this, it's not fair to him, or anyone else for that matter, and…” Dave looked down, his long hair falling to partially obscure his face. Dave started to say something else, so softly that Lars could barely hear the words, but he thought that he could make out the phrase “can’t lose him”. When Dave finally raised his head back up, Lars noticed that his eyes were glossy and rimmed with red. 

 

Privately, Lars wondered how he hadn’t noticed the relationship between James and Dave; looking at it now it was obvious that the two cared for each other a great deal, especially in light of what Dave had just said. It was clear that Dave was looking for a response, but Lars had no idea what to say. He hoped that Cliff would say something and save Lars from having to think of a proper reaction.

 

“Pizza’s here!” chirped the waitress, oblivious to the somber mood of the table. Lars supposed that was as good of a distraction as any, and took the opportunity to stuff his mouth with pizza to avoid anyone expecting him to speak. Only-

 

“Fuck, for helvede, that’s hot, fu-” Lars downed half of his glass of soda in one gulp, trying to put out the fire that had taken up residence in his mouth. The waitress gave him an odd look before asking if he was okay, to which he nodded silently. He supposed he’d offended her or something, not that he really cared. 

 

As the waitress walked away, Dave began laughing, though he tried to stifle it with his free hand. Lars glared, which only caused Dave to laugh harder. Why had Lars brought him back, again, exactly? Oh, right, for James, who was finally beginning to stir after all the commotion.

 

James lifted his head off of Dave’s shoulder, blinking slowly. “What’s going on?” he asked.

 

“Just Lars being an idiot,” said Dave, “nothing unusual. Food just got here, though.”

 

“Oh, good,” said James, sitting up straighter so that he could reach for a slice of pizza. 

 

They ate in relative silence, each lost in their own thoughts until the check came, delivered by the once-again perky waitress. 

 

As they were walking out of the restraint, the waitress waved and called out, “Tschuss! Haben Sie eine gute Urlaub!” That explained the strange look, anyway. Apparently she’d been trying- and failing- to figure out what language he’d slipped into. He waved back, not bothering to correct her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can speak German, Dutch, and Norwegian, but not a word of Danish, so let me know if I messed that up somehow.


	10. Locked Rooms In Foreign Lands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An extra Tuesday chapter because I wrote more than I wanted to put in the regular Friday update.

Back in the truck, Dave had taken over James’ job of driving, and so far he liked it. It felt good to be a part of the band again, and it definitely felt nice to have James slumped against his leg, once again asleep. 

 

As soon as they had gotten into the car, James had somehow pulled the center console up- apparently there were actually six seats in this truck- and slid it back to create and seatback and reveal a seatbelt. James then managed to fold his not-exactly-small frame up in a way that allowed him to lay across the front bench, using Dave as an improvised pillow. Dave was fairly certain that if his mind wasn't still doing mental somersaults trying to process everything that had happened over the last 30 or so hours, having James' head in his lap would be a lot more  _ distracting _ , even with two other people in the truck. 

 

Cliff and Lars had seated themselves in the back once again, with the box of leftover pizza lying between them. Dave could just see the top of Cliff’s head behind him in the mirror. He wasn't sure if Cliff was sleeping, reading something, or just watching out the window, but either way he hadn’t said anything to Dave or Lars since they had gotten back on the road. Combined with Lars’ unusual quiet- Dave could see him either writing or drawing on a small notepad that looked like it had been stolen from a payphone- and James’ obvious lack of conversation, the only noise Dave could hear was the low hum of the truck, interspersed with the occasional whine of a passing vehicle. 

 

Normally the silence would have bothered Dave, driving him insane until he found a way to create sound either through music or arguments, but right now, looking at the band that was once again his family, it felt peaceful. 

 

………………………….

 

Lars had comfortably wedged himself into the corner of his seat and the door, allowing him to rest his notepad against the leg he had pulled onto the seat. He'd taken the notepad from one of the bus stops’ many payphones, after finding himself absentmindedly doodling on it while he spoke with Kirk. 

 

By now Lars had gone through half the pages of the small pad, alternately sketching out various stick figure images of a nondescript  band, defined only by their numerous guitarists, and drafting several versions of what he planned to say to Kirk next time he saw him. 

 

Setting the notepad onto his lap for a moment, Lars considered how he'd suggest the idea of three guitars to the others. Surely there were plenty of other bands who'd had the same idea like, well, like- fuck it, they'd start a trend. Metallica was his creation, and if he wanted three people playing the guitar, he'd  _ have  _ three people playing the guitar. Lars was certain it wouldn't be too hard to convince Cliff they needed a third guitarist- just point out all the new musical possibilities that would open up, and Cliff would be agreeable to just about anything. 

 

James and Dave and Kirk, on the other hand, might take some convincing. Of the three, Lars figured Kirk would be the easiest to convince. He seemed like a pretty reasonable person, and Lars didn't have to worry about Kirk feeling like his position was being threatened, since he technically hadn t even started in the band yet. 

 

Dave was going to be the worst. Lars would have to make sure that when he brought up his idea with Dave someone else was around, preferably James. Or a bodyguard. On second thought, he might tell Dave over the phone. 

 

From a locked room. 

 

In Denmark. 


	11. Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter than usual today, but I couldn't find another place to split it into a third section.

“Finally,” said James, stretching his legs as he exited the truck, “No more driving for at least another week.”

“Thank god!” said Dave, sliding out of the door of the passenger’s side, where he’d once again taken up residence after James had woken up and volunteered to drive.

Lars watched as Dave walked around to the driver’s side to meet James, who smiled in turn. 

The two, along with Cliff, began removing their bags from the truck. Lars, satisfied that this would occupy them for at least several minutes, as the bags and suitcases were corded down to the bed of the truck, hurried inside to the kitchen phone.

………….

Lars dialed the number for Kirk’s hotel room, and fidgeted with a pen as he waited for his call to be answered. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Kirk, it’s me, Lars.”

“Oh, hi, Lars. How’s your presumably very awkward road trip going?” 

“Over, thankfully. We just got back to New York a few minutes ago. James and Dave and Cliff are out back arguing over how to untie all the luggage from the truck.” As if to illustrate his point, at that exact moment someone could be heard yelling at someone else to ‘untie the fucking bungie,’ though the wall made it impossible to tell who.

“Was that…?” Kirk didn't dignify the situation with a full sentence. 

“Yes,” said Lars, letting out a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

“How many people does it take to untie a rope?” Kirk manages to ask through his own laughter.

“More than three, apparently,” said Lars, nearly breathless. Lars took a moment to compose himself, then said, “Hey, there was something I wanted to run by you- in private. Are you free for dinner tonight?” Lars felt himself blush, and was glad that Kirk couldn't see him. 

“Um, yeah,” said Kirk, “Yeah, I’m totally free. Is six good?”

“Uh, six is great, perfect, I’ll see you at six!” Lars hoped that Kirk couldn't tell how nervous he was. 

“Yeah, see you at six!” Lars heard the sound of Kirk fumbling with the phone, followed by dead air as he finally managed to hang up. Lars placed his own phone back onto the hook, and tried to remove the blush from his face. 

_ This is not a date, _ he reminded himself,  _ this is a business meeting to discuss guitars. _ Lars decided that it would be a good idea to convince Cliff of his idea  _ before _ meeting Kirk for dinner, and set off to find the bassist.

………….

“So you want to have three guitarists, am I getting this right? Because you want more ‘musical possibilities’ in the future?” said Cliff, somehow seeming to stare Lars down from his position seated on the couch, bass in his lap.

“Yes,” said Lars, averting his eyes from the weight of Cliff’s stare. 

“Why do I get the feeling you don't give a damn about musical possibilities?”

Lars felt himself blush, but said nothing. 

Cliff sighed. “ _ I’m  _ fine with it, but good luck getting everyone else to agree.”

“Thanks, I knew I could count on you.” Lars smiled and practically sprinted out of the room as Cliff shouted “You’re welcome!”.

…………..

Lars checked his watch. 4 o’clock. He’d been pacing back in forth in front of James’ room for almost twenty minutes now, trying to work up the nerve to go in. He knew Dave wasn’t in the room: he could hear the shower running across the hall, and chances were it wasn't going to stop anytime soon. 

Hesitantly, Lars knocked on the door.

“Get your ass in here before you wear a hole in the floor!”

Lars opened the door and walked in to see an exasperated James sitting up in bed holding a notebook and pen. 

“What? What is it? What could you possibly have to say that’s had you walking in circles outside my door for half an hour!”

Lars froze. “You could hear me?”

James gave Lars a look that screamed ‘you’re an idiot’. “Of course I could hear you! The walls in this place are thinner than paper! I’ve been trying to write lyrics for the last twenty minutes but all I could focus on was you stomping around in the hallway!” That explained James’ less than pleased expression, anyway, Lars thought, if he’d been disturbing James’ writing.

James breathed out heavily, setting the notebook and pen down beside him. “What is it, Lars?” James voice was calmer now, but Lars could tell he was still annoyed.

“Um,” said Lars, still slightly nervous about the subject he intended to broach with James, “ Ithinkweshouldhavethreeguitaristsinthebandandalso-"

“Lars! Breathe! I have absolutely no idea what you just said.” 

“I, well, I said I think we should have three guitarists.” Lars wrung his hands together, waiting for a response from James. Thankfully, one came quickly. 

“Ok."  _ Fucking ‘Ok? Lars had spent three hours preparing for this and James’ only response was ‘Ok’?  _

“What?” Lars tried to keep the shock out of his voice, but he could hear that he had failed.

“We kind of figured you were going to suggest that, and Dave and Cliff both think it’s a good idea, and I don’t have a problem with it, so really all that’s left is to talk to Kirk and make sure he’s okay with it.”

_ What!?  _ “When the hell did you three have time to discuss this?” Lars voice rose higher without his consent, almost turning to a shriek by the end.

“Did you really think it took three people over half an hour to untie half a dozen bungee cords? Really, Lars?” James looked disappointed, and Lars-

“Why didn't you tell me that earlier? And why did Cliff act surprised when I asked him?”

“I wanted to watch you squirm over it for a while. Petty revenge, if you will. And I asked Cliff to pretend to be surprised just so you'd stress out longer.” A large smile graced James’ face, and he looked like a cat that had just caught the proverbial canary. 

“I hate you,” said Lars, voice flat, “I really hate you.”

James smiled wider and laughed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Jocy and Metallicafanforever, you guys are the reason this story gets written with any semblance of a schedule.


	12. Affetto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahgh, this is short, and I'm sure the Italian is wrong, but I haven't had internet access, and this is already late, and I wanted to put something up for you guys.
> 
> I'll try to have something else up before the Friday update to make up for it. Sorry!

5:15pm. 45 minute until he could see Kirk. It was a ten minute walk to Kirk’s hotel, and Lars sat on the living room couch counting down the time until he could start walking and arrive at a socially acceptable time. 

 

Lars flipped through the channels on the television, passing several sports and a Spanish soap opera. He checked his watch. Still to early. 

 

Lars picked up a four day old newspaper and read through the first four pages before skipping to the comics. 5:27pm. Maybe Kirk liked earliness? Lars forced himself to read the business section. 5:32.

 

Lars put the television back onto the Spanish soap opera. The show didn't have any subtitles, but from what he could tell, it didn't have any bras either. He watched for a few minutes as the two women on screen argued about something- Lars had no idea what- and threw half-finished wine bottles at each other. 

 

The screen cut to a hospital, and Lars checked the time again. 5:40. Lars decided that ten minutes early wouldn't really be  _ that  _ early, grabbed his wallet and the toy greyhound, and started for the door. 

………..

Kirk dodged his way through the busy sidewalk, slipping out of the way of hurried businesspeople and past stalled tourists. He hoped Lars wouldn't mind him showing up a bit early; if Lars did think it was weird, Kirk figured he could always pretend he hadn’t been sure how long the walk to the house was going to take.

 

Distracted by his thoughts, Kirk failed to notice the short figure speeding towards him, and the two collided, their combined momentum just barely keeping them from falling into the doorway of the  _ Ristorante di Affetto _ . Kirk stepped back and looked down at the person he had collide with.

“Lars?”

“Kirk?”

Kirk looked at Lars, who seemed equally surprised, and said, “I was just on my way to meet you at the house, I didn’t expect to run into you. Literally. Sorry about that, actually.”

“It’s fine. It was mostly my fault, anyway. I was on my way to your hotel, I thought I was meeting you there.” Lars looked sheepish, and Kirk recalled that they hadn’t actually decided where to meet.

Kirk smiled. “Well, we saved ourselves some time, anyway.”

Lars smiled back, and moved his hair out of his eyes. Lars expression changed as he seemed to remember something suddenly, his eyes widening.

“Oh! I brought you something!” Lars held out the arm that had been hidden behind his back, revealing a small stuffed dog with legs sewn on at slightly odd angles. It was adorable.

“Aww, it’s so cute.” Kirk held it in front of his face, looking it in the eyes. “I love it! Thank you!”

Lars blushed as he spoke. “I was hoping you’d like it. I saw it at the gift shop and I couldn’t resist getting it for you.” The two stood smiling at each other, ignoring the bustling crowd of the city around them.

  
After a long moment had passed, Kirk took Lars’ hand in his, and led him through the  _ Ristorante’s  _ entrance.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyyy, here's that chapter I thought got posted five whole months ago......
> 
> please don't kill me.

A loud band echoed through the house, shocking James out of his sleep. Confused, he looked around the room, but nothing seemed to have fallen. James glanced at the clock resting on his bedside table. Just past two in the morning, according to the slowly blinking display. 

Another bang sounded from somewhere in the house, closer to them than before. James shuffled across the room to Dave’s bed, and tried to jostle the somehow still asleep redhead into consciousness. Dave groaned.

“Wha’ times’it?” mumbled Dave, sleep pervading his voice.

“2,” said James, “I heard a weird noise.”

Dave reached up to wrap his hand around the arm that still rested on his shoulder. “Y’don’ need’n excuse,” Dave said, pulling slightly on James wrist.

James tugged his arm back. “Dave, I’m serious, I don’t know how you slept through it in the first place, but you need to get up so we can go find out what happened.” Dave gave one more light attempt to pull James down into bed with him before releasing his grasp on James’ wrist and sitting up.

Pushing the hair out of his face, Dave said “Are you sure it isn’t just the house settling, or something like that?”

“Yes! Now come on!” James tugged on Dave’s arm with one hand, pointing at the door with the other..  
………………….  
Lars stumbled into the darkened kitchen, fumbling blindly along the wall for the lightswitch. He had no idea what time it was- he had meant to be back around 10, but as Lars was walking Kirk back to his hotel room, Kirk had spotted a theatre doing a screening of several classic horror movies. Lars was unashamed of the fact that from that point on he had spent most of the evening hiding his face in Kirk’s hair, too freaked out to even glance at the screen.

Lars froze as his hand passed over something warm, then screamed as someone grabbed him from behind. The lights came on, and Lars saw that the warm thing that he had placed his hand on was, in fact, a very annoyed looking Dave. Lars removed his hand from Dave’s face at the same time the arms holding him in place dropped..

“What the hell, Lars?” Said James, while walking to face Lars.

Lars threw his hands up and smiled awkwardly, and said “Dinner went a bit late?”

Dave rolled his eyes, muttering something that Lars thought sounded like ‘fucking paranoid boyfriend’ as he walked out of the room, leaving James standing sheepish in front of Lars.

Lars crossed his arms. “You thought I was a burglar, didn’t you?”

James silence confirmed it, and Lars couldn’t help but double over laughing.

“It’s not that funny,” protested James.

Lars managed to stop laughing long enough to meet James’ eyes, and say “Oh, it is,” before he left the room, giggling still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Jocy, Metallicafanforever, entangledbanks, and frankie_is_freaky for you comments, and to scumblequeen for the tumblr message. This thing literally would not have gotten done without the reminders.
> 
>  
> 
> There might be more stories connected to this in the future, but there probably won't be a direct sequel.


End file.
